graceful trees, and it is astonishing they should be so little planted. These are noble specimens, and look extremely healthy. The most characteristic feature in the Park is the house it contains and the garden immediately round it. This was built for Lauderdale, the “L” in the Cabal of Charles II., probably about 1660. When this unattractive character was not living there himself, he not unfrequently lent it to Nell Gwynn. The ground floor of the house is open to the public as refreshment rooms, and one empty parlour with seats has much good old carving, of the date of the house, over the mantelpiece, also in a recess which encloses a marble bath known as “Nell Gwynn’s bath.” It is said to have been from a window in Lauderdale House that she held out her son when Charles was walking below, threatening to let him drop if the King did not promise to confer some title upon him. In response Charles exclaimed, “Save the Earl of Burford,” which title (and later, that of Duke of St. Albans) was formally conferred upon him. The terrace along which the King was walking is still there. A little inscription has been inserted on a sun-dial near the wall, to record the fact that the dial-plate is level with the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral. A flight of steps leads to a lower terrace. This is planted in a formal design consisting of three circles, the centre one having a fountain. Two more flights of steps descend, in a line from the fountain, to a broad walk bordered with flowers leading to one of the entrances to the Park. At right angles to the other steps a walk leads from the fountain to another part of the garden, which is planted with old fruit-trees on the grassy slope. It is at the foot of these steps that the water-colour sketch is taken. The “eagles with wings expanded” are the supporters of the Lauderdale arms. The whole garden is delightful, and so much in keeping with the house that it is easy to picture the much-disliked Lauderdale, the genial King, and fascinating “Nell,” living and moving on its terraces. Pepys gives a glimpse of one of these characters at home. He drove up alone with Lord Brouncker, in a coach and six. No doubt the hill made the six very necessary, as in another place Pepys talks of the bad road to Highgate. They joined Lord Lauderdale “and his lady, and some Scotch people,” at supper. Scotch airs were played by one of the servants on the violin; “the best of their country, as they seemed to esteem them, by their praising and admiring them: but, Lord! the strangest ayre that ever I heard in my life, and all of one cast. But strange to hear my Lord Lauderdale say himself that he had rather hear a cat mew, than the best musique in the world; and the better the musique, the more sick it makes him; and that of all instruments, he hates the lute most, and next to that the baggpipe.” These sentiments may not prove that Lauderdale was “a man of mighty good reason and judgement,” as Lord Brouncker assured Pepys when